Late in the afternoon, when Ambrose North and Barbara were alone again, he came over to her chair and stroked her shining hair with a loving hand.
"Did they tell you, dear?" he asked.
"Yes," whispered Barbara.
"I have dreamed so often that my baby could walk and I could see. He said that the dream should come true if he could make it so."
"Did he say anything about your eyes?" asked Barbara, in astonishment.
Hopeful
"Yes. He thinks there may be a chance there, too. If you are willing, I am to go to the city with him sometime and see a friend of his who is a great specialist."
"Oh, Daddy," cried Barbara. "I'm afraid—for you."
He drew a chair up near hers and sat down. The old hand, in which the pulses moved so slowly, clasped the younger one, warm with life.